My leg is restless. I am suffering from gastric distress. Since 3 a.m. last Tuesday, dizziness has been an issue. I have joint pain and slight inflammation of the nostrils and eyelids. My hair is falling out. Last Tuesday, at 2:38 a.m., I woke up without any particular maladies. I had a lot on my mind, though, and I wanted to have less on my mind, so I turned on the television. Seven minutes into Joanie Loves Chachi, just as I was getting a nice dozy feeling from wondering why Scott Baio had a bandana tied around his leg, I became fascinated by a nasal-decongestant ad that showed me pictures of happy dads chasing small towheaded children through dandelion fields. I occasionally sneeze on spring weekends, so it occurred to me that it would be pleasant if I, too, could be a happy dad chasing small towheaded children, though I suppose that would scare the children unless I were their dad.
In any case, just as the dad was leading the kids into his sun-dappled home to pet the sheepdog, an announcer told me that I should ask my doctor if I was suffering from symptoms of glaucoma. I raised my hand to my right eye, rubbed it and realized that it felt a bit strained, as if pressure were building up from within. A moment later, my heart beat twice when it should have beaten once, and I felt an uncontrollable urge to urinate. Which would not have been such a problem if it weren’t for the kidney stone I’d just developed. The dad threw open the French windows of his countryside estate. A breeze billowed the curtains. Faerie dust glistened in a beam of light. It was lovely beyond words. I needed to vomit. I will ask my doctor about XeNaze, just as soon as the paralysis clears.